Ace of Spades
by LoveAndWar
Summary: Although the United States government shut its doors on Umbrella, it wasn't destroyed. Relocating in Europe, it arranges to have the remaining loose ends of their American Operations cut off or decimated. But what would Umbrella be without scheming?
1. Introduction and Prologue

**Ace of Spades**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of Resident Evil.

Introduction: Ace City, Spade County

Spade County was one of those places made infamous in story books and movies. A quietly tucked away town, it boasted an extremely low crime rate. Highlighted by rolling hills of emerald green, broad stretches of farmland, and several bordering forests of a dark, eerie nature, it was finally caped off with a heavy sky of pale sapphire blue. If you asked any teenager that lived there, they would tell you it was the most boring place on earth to grow up. Well, it was beautiful, but like most would say, was hardly the setting for any action-packed thriller.

Ace City could hardly be called a city. At the northernmost point of Spade County, it was nothing more than a small town with a population of 103 people. One hundred and three proud people, mind you. They often jested that they were "The Ace of Spades," the best in the deck. While the adults chuckled at this, the children could only roll their eyes and hope for a little excitement. It must be mentioned that people should be more detailed in what they wish for, for generalization could often have nasty results.

Prologue: Finch's Landing, 65 miles south of Ace city.

Nero Octavian leaned against the polished glass table on his lakeside home, his patience wearing thin from waiting. After readjusting his ebon gray tailored suit jacket once more, he lifted his wrist to read the time off of his golden watch. _Late_, he thought with a furrowed brow, _like always_. Pulling the cream colored envelope off of the table, he flipped through it once more, making sure everything was there, even though he already knew it was. Distantly, he heard the gravel shift on the driveway outside, confirming that his contact was finally here and pulling up. A car door slammed shut.

Pushing gently off the table, he slowly walked over to the glass doors, watching the fading rays of sunlight glisten gently on the lake. The evergreen trees beyond slowly grew dark and overshadowing. Overhead, several birds-finches, he noted-flew gracefully over the air before diving into the ocean of trees to return to their nests. As the day's light faded and the day began to come to an end, the forest seemed to only begin and come alive. Animal sounds crept through the walls and windows, slightly muffled.

The front door opened and closed with nothing more than a _click_, before footsteps echoed off the marble tiles in the main hallway. He felt the presence before he turned to look. One could always tell if eyes danced upon them, even from behind. One could always sense how the air became heavy when someone else entered. He heard how they moved, and settled into a chair beside the cold fireplace. A clink of a lighter, the flutter of a flame, the smell of sweet smoke. Nero turned around to face the fireplace, his face carefully drawn blank to mask any emotion.

"Good evening, Claudia."

The woman, Claudia, didn't say anything, but instead gave him a smile that revealed as much as it hid. A flame of wit flickered in her black eyes, the only light one could find there if they looked. She seemed strangely calm, seated there in his velvet chair, dressed in a finely tailored black suit to conform to her slender body. Studying her, Nero suddenly felt too old to be playing these games anymore. And he was. He gave 44 years to Umbrella; he gave away his youth, his life, and his marriage. His hair had faded to a sleek gray, his hazel gaze grew dull. It was time to retire; he was so tired of fighting for what he no longer wanted.

"I have your orders here," he said quietly, slowly placing his hand on the file on the glass table. "They're expecting you back in New York tomorrow at 10:30. I have taken care of your transportation; you will find a plane ticket in this folder, with a list of instructions you must follow carefully."

Looking away from her, he looked down at the file, contemplating silently. The Umbrella Corporation was virtually decimated; to the public, anyway. But the government was foolish to imagine that Umbrella was truly destroyed. The Head Researchers were already located in various parts of Europe, just waiting for their orders. There were only a few more loose ends to finish off until they could pick themselves up again. And Nero was here to tie off one of those loose ends. He would miss Finch's Landing, but his fate no longer rested here. Looking over at the fireplace, he was surprise to find that Claudia was no longer there.

"Miss Mayfair?" He called out gently, turning around to study the room.

"This is it, Mr. Octavian." Nero looked back around, surprised to see her on the opposite side of the table, holding the folder. Her words weren't a question, but merely a statement. No sure how to respond, he remained quiet. She had an interesting voice, with an indistinct accent. Like the rest of her, it was both eerie and alluring. She flipped the pages of the file with one light golden brown finger, apparently out of boredom or amusement. Perhaps both. Fearing that she was just wasting time, he cleared his throat.

"I suggest you start leaving, Miss Mayfair. You have only tonight." Remembering, then, he pulled a small cell phone from his pocket and set it down in the center of the table. "Compliments of Umbrella. You will be contacted through this phone and this phone only."

Arching one thin, dark eyebrow, she reached for the cell phone and pocketed it silently. Walking over to the glass doors, she studied the view, apparently thinking. Moving away from the table, he leaned against the fireplace mantel, just a few feet from the glass doors. It was growing steadily darker outside. Claudia reached her hands out and pulled the drapes shut gently. The room grew darker, lit now only by a small lamp.

"I'm surprised, Mr. Octavian, that a man such as yourself would allow the whole world to witness your life."

"At least someone would. A man such as myself, as you so delicately put it, rarely has someone to know of his existence," he said more curtly than he wished to.

"You are what you chose to be."

"I know," he said softly, wondering where she was going with this.

"Would you consider your life lived for the common good, Mr. Octavian?"

Nero chuckled in a bittersweet fashion. "Oh, Miss Mayfair you certainly have quite the sense of humor."

A shot rattled the walls as Nero fell to the floor with a loud _thud._ Coughing violently, he tasted blood. His hands trembled as they pressed against the blood wound. There was so much blood. There was no pain, just a sense of sharpness in the air. A veil filled the air like black smoke, clouding his vision. His head fell back, and then he knew no more.


	2. Chapter One

**Ace of Spades**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of Resident Evil or Capcom.

One: Finch's Landing

Claudia dropped the magnum to the floor before dropping her leather gloved hand to her waist. Brushing back her black tailored jacket, she crouched down beside Nero, her smooth face drawn cold and bored looking. Reaching out her right hand, she felt for a pulse at the neck. There was none. Tilting her head, her long dark hair falling over her shoulders, she studied her work. Snorting quietly, a mild smirk floated to her cold lips.

"Ding Dong, the bastard's dead."

Set to her task, she searched his pockets, and found nothing but a cell phone, similar to hers, yet a steel blue color rather than silver. Frowning, she sighed softly. It wasn't here. She was tempted to search the house, but fought against it. If it wasn't on his person, it wasn't in the house. Nero didn't play those games. Things suddenly began to look gloomy; she already had enough on her plate without having to go on a wild goose chase.

Biting her lip, she looked about the room, just wanting to think for a few moments. Her eyes rested upon the red telephone on the oak table, beside the ivory colored leather couch. Suppressing another smirk, she looked back down at Nero's body. Reaching with her right hand, she put her gloved fingers in the pool of blood seeping out from beneath him. Standing up, she glided over to it with a certain feline grace. Using her left hand, she picked up the receiver and pushed a single button. Redial. Lifting it up to her ear, she waited as several seconds passed until she heard a voice on the other end.

"Altec's Bar, Ace City."

Hanging up, Claudia considered her options. _Something _was happening at Altec's Bar, and was fortunately in Ace City, right on her way. However, it was a slightly suspicious; perhaps it would be wise not to go. But the temptation was a little too unbearable. Why was Mr. Octavian calling someone not on his approved list of contacts? Oh yes, she knew all about Nero; she did quite a bit of research about him. A rather impressive resume; pity he was no longer with them. Perhaps _it_ was stored there. The perfect place to hide something's of its nature; in a place very few people would think to look.

Looking at her right hand, she clasped the receiver, smearing it slightly. Enough to look like fingers had clasped there, but not enough to get a print. Decimating the wires connecting it to the outside world, she then made her way back over to Nero. Now, to get rid of him. Grabbing the collar of his jacket, she pulled it off of him and whipped it out in the main hallway. Blood splattered the walls and floor. Bundling it up, she threw it into the fireplace. Taking off her own jacket, she placed it beneath him. In a quick, careful drag, she managed to pull him into the large fireplace. Panting slightly, she looked back. Good, she thought, no signs of dragging the bloody bastard. Thankfully, carefulness paid off. No blood dotted her shirt. Taking out her gold lighter, she looked down at Nero once more. Bending down, she set fire to his sleeve. Slowly, the flames took over. Mesmerized, she stepped back, watching him burn for a few moments. But there wasn't enough time. Taking off her gloves, she threw them into the flames, picked up the cell phones and file, and headed out the main door.

"And it was such a nice jacket," she commented to herself as she slipped on her thin, black sunglasses. Heading to her black Saturn, she eyed it in distaste. Definitely not her kind of car, but at least it wouldn't stick out. Electronically opening the doors, she tossed the cell phones and file onto the front passenger seat. Heading to the trunk, she popped it open, before pulling up the flooring of the trunk to reveal a key hole. Using a small key on her ring of keys, all for various missions, houses, and reasons, she unlocked the compartment to reveal a small group of guns. She took out a small 9 mm, before closing it all up again.

Moving back to the front, she got in and slammed the door shut. Before her, she could take the path to the main North-South highway. Behind her, she could go back to the small dusty path that leaked out into western Spade County. Luckily, she knew all the shortcuts. Turning around, she took the dusty path once more before cutting off into a mildly beaten path that lead to the North South highway- a tip only the locals knew about, with the exception of a few.

Two: Finch's Landing

Alucard Michaels and William Goldman sat crouched in a great oak tree, each clutching a pair of binoculars.

"Look-Will, ya see the smoke?" Michaels lowered his binoculars, and flashed a grin at Goldman.

"Yeah. We better get going if we're going to get there before the police do."

And, together, they climbed back to the ground and set off to the lake house of the late Nero Octavian.

Three: Altec's Bar, Ace City

Jesse McGuire hung up the phone, mildly annoyed. Didn't people have consideration any more these days? Just hung up without a word. Shaking his head, he looked back down at the crate of dishware that had to be put away in the back room. It had been a slow day. Tuesdays always were. To add to the loneliness, everyone called out that day, so he was left working alone.

Bending down, he tried not to groan as he took the crate back and maneuvered between all the boxes and equipment scattered over the floor. Finally reaching an empty spot of shelf space, he set it down, panting. Wiping his brow with his sleeve, he couldn't wait for the day to be over. He was so tired of carting boxes around.

"Jesse McGuire?" A voice from behind.

Surprised and confused, Jesse turned around. "Yes?"

One minute later, Jesse McGuire laid dead on the floor, strangled to death.


	3. Chapter Two

**Ace of Spades**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of Resident Evil or Capcom.

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews. I'm glad it's enjoyable so far. Windra, thank you for pointing that out to me. I can see how that would get annoying.

Four: North-South Highway, Spade County

Claudia drove on silently for a few minutes, her ebon eyes calculating behind her thin black frames. Drumming her once again gloved fingers on the steering wheel, she kept checking the time, growing anxious as it grew dark. She hated having to smooth the wrinkles out of this plan; it was so risky to tamper with the fragile lines that held it together, especially with loyalty bought and not earned. Glancing down at the time once more, she reasoned that enough time had elapsed to begin her series of intriguing phone calls. Time was an important factor here, as was supply. One might wonder how the two coincided in this situation, but indeed, they were very much intertwined. Time to get things done…and the supply of police officers. Ace City, sparsely populated, didn't bother to have a police station; they always used the one in the neighboring city, should anything worthy of being called a crime happen.

It was now time to get any scattered police cars off the highway, so should she somehow start speeding, no one would be there to stop her. This was not the night to be noticed. More importantly, she had to get most of the police cars far enough away from Ace City, so that by the time they got there, it would be too late. Picking Nero's steel blue cell phone, she flipped it open, and dialed three numbers: 911. The phone rang a few times before someone picked up, a man.

"Beldon City Police Department. Do you have an emergency?"

"Yes, I'd like to report a murder." Her voice was masked with a honed Russian accent, one she perfected while living in Russia for three years. For that matter, she also knew fluent Russian, and was able to mask her native accent.

"960, Finch's Landing Drive," she added before hanging up and before the officer had a chance to ask any questions. It was enough information, and she didn't want to make her call any easier to trace for the police by staying on. Not that they could; or, not that it would be easy. Umbrella had a talent for hiding their footprints, and made sure to fix their phones so as not to be traced. She pushed down further on the gas peddle, raising her speed to 75 MPH. It would do for now. Dark trees floated past quickly on either side, dark and hazy in the night. She wasn't done yet. She checked Nero's list of contacts, expecting to find none. She didn't. But Nero couldn't hide every call made on this phone. Umbrella, for all the bright minds there, didn't always have the best commonsense.

Flipping through the list of Recent Calls Made, she found several that seemed local, which further proved he was up to something local. But then, there were also non local numbers. She considered the area code of each, matching them up with different parts of the world in her mind. Finally, one caught her eye. She happened to find out through a series of money exchanges that the Heads had gathered together in Belgium for the time being. Smirking, she dialed the number, taking pleasure as the phone rang.

"Hello." The voice on the other end was wary, fearful even. Apparently, they rarely received calls, especially from this phone. This didn't surprise Claudia. Umbrella was on the verge of losing everything; Claudia silently wondered how it would feel to be told that they were indeed finished.

"Tell me about Operation: Ace." Claudia's voice was once more coated with a Russian accent, rather frank and annoyingly straightforward. The accent alone would be enough to drive them chaotic. That was their biggest fear; that the Russians would somehow get hold of their precious plans. They were the only ones able to compete in the campaign of viral engineering. And now their fears were secured. Let the bastards squirm.

"What do you want?" The voice was hazy.

"Beg me for mercy before I bring your precious plans to crumbling ruins, you son of a whoring bitch."

He didn't beg. It didn't matter. Claudia hung up the phone before rolling down her window. Clutching the cell phone for one last moment, she threw it out the window, sending it crashing into a telephone pole. It shattered and fell to the emerald grass below. Umbrella was definitely sweating by now. They would be worried about her. If Nero was in their custody, why not she? She could practically sense them tracking her cell phone. Hell knew that when they finally did, she didn't want them to find her and Nero's phone together. That would raise suspicion. She still had time to kill, and about 20 minutes until she reached Ace City. They would be calling in a few minutes, and then things would really get interesting.

Five: Umbrella Warehouse, Belgium

Thomas Lebaste sat at the wooden table, running his trembling hands through his short blond hair. They were so close to their goal. He dared to believe that even the Russians couldn't stop them anymore. But then that bitch called. Some dying hope in the back of his mind told him to be calm. They could still get agents there. It wasn't over yet. Shaking his head, he laughed bitterly. It was bullshit, all of it. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it quickly, knowing that there was nothing left to do but wait for the end. And it would come.

People were quickly moving about the room, some trying to trace calls, others talking on small cell phones to God knows who. So far, they knew that both Agent Mayfair's and Specialized Agent Octavian's cell phones were in Spade County. With a little more time, they could tell where exactly they were in relation to one another. With a little more luck, they could find out if either of the agents were still alive. Besides that, others were trying to research calls made prior to the one they received several minutes ago.

"Do we have anything yet?" Lebaste was growing impatient, but it wasn't because he was delayed in saving his plans. As of now, he just wanted to know who had beaten him. Who was the better man behind this?

"Yes…" The voice was trailed off, and slow in coming. Lebaste, slightly surprised quickly got up and walked over with the others that crowded nearby.

"Where's it coming from?" Someone asked. It didn't matter who they were.

"Beldon City. It's a place just east of Ace City."

"And whose it to?"

There was a pause. "The police." The air grew heavy as the young man fiddled with the computer, trying to run the recording of the conversation he acquired after breaking into the Police Department's Database. It wasn't very hard. There was ringing…once, twice, three times.

"Beldon City Police Department. Do you have an emergency?"

"Yes, I'd like to report a murder…960, Finch's Landing Drive."

The call cut off, as did the recording. No one in the room dared to move, they could barely breathe.

"Well," said Lebaste, laughing slightly as he broke away from the group. "So much for Nero Octavian."

Before anyone could react, one man in the back stood up, waving them over. "I've traced the calls. Currently, they're both on the North-South highway of Spade County."

"Are they together?"

"No."

"Then perhaps our little Miss Mayfair is still alive."

"Do you think she'll survive?" Another piped in, his eyebrows arched.

"She's a smart woman. Excels in the missions we give her. Has always done what she's been asked. I imagine there's a possibility she'll survive, but I don't know exactly what we're dealing with."

Six: Altec's Bar, Ace City

Augustus Gimmerie stood by the curtained window of the second floor of the small bar known as Altec's Bar. He couldn't see out, as he didn't wish to be seen. He had the bar closed up so as to look shut down for the night. And it was, except for the VIP they were expecting. He heard someone else enter the room and gently close the door.

"We're set up, Sir."

"Good. Let me know the instant Claudia gets here."

"Of course, Sir." The door closed once more, leaving the room quiet and heavy.

Augustus smirked slightly, already looking forward to the night that would come. He couldn't wait to see Claudia again. Couldn't wait to see the surprise on her face at him being here. But most of all, he couldn't wait to see her dead on the floor.


	4. Chapter Three

**Ace of Spades**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of Resident Evil or Comcast

**A/N: **Thank you for reviewing, sorry for the slow update.

Seven: Altec's Bar, Ace City

Augustus Gimmerie leaned against the mantel of the small fireplace that adorned the room on the west wall. He had to be patient, but after years of waiting for this moment, this _revenge_, he was so damn tired of waiting. That bitch left him bleeding to die; the _lovely_ Claudia Mayfair. Her skills with weaponry made her a threat; her beauty made her dangerous.

"Sir-we can't get a hold of him…" A voice broke through the silence of the room like a knife. Augustus quickly turned around to face the young man who disturbed his contemplation, a frown forming on his lips.

"What do you mean? I just talked to him not an hour ago."

"Sir, that phone number is no longer reachable. It no longer exists, it seems."

Augustus quickly turned around, silently seething. If that bitch had _anything_ to do with this, he'd bleed her dry. She had a talent for foiling everyone else's plans but her own. But not tonight. Nothing could screw up what he had stored for tonight; he had waited too long and planned too carefully. But apparently, not carefully enough, as Nero Octavian was now unreachable. It all probability, he was dead.

Eight: Finch's Landing

When Alucard Michaels and William Goldman finally reached the home of the late Nero Octavian, they knew their time was limited. The police would be arriving within the hour, if not much sooner. They had to get in, get out, and leave no trace. More easily said than done, especially with today's technology. They slipped through the front door left unlocked, they knew, by Claudia Mayfair. Already aware that it would not be wise to travel through the main hallway-already splattered with blood-they went through the dining room into the main lounge area.

The smell of the room hit them hard, as the smell of a burning body is rather unpleasant. All the more reason to move quickly. Passing by the disconnected phone one the small table beside the couch, they were careful not to touch anything. The room had to be left this way for the police. Their main job, as previous workers for Umbrella's scientific team located just two hours north of here, was to clean up the mess. Working for Umbrella had given them plenty of practice. Goldman moved to the glass door in the back of the room to air the smell out, but was careful to leave the screen in place. Michaels crouched by the fireplace and immediately set to clearing up any traces of a body.

Nine: Umbrella Warehouse, Belgium

Thomas Lebaste stood in the center of the large room, a quiet smirk coming over his lips. Just moments ago, everyone was hurrying about frantically; but now, they were silent and unmoving, just watching him and waiting for instructions. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. He imagined several of them thought he was going insane. Perhaps they were right. When a man faced the end, suddenly everything screamed of madness.

None of them knew what to do, but what could really be done? Like so many men before them, their dreams had grown too big for them, and the legend of what could have been would out live them for far longer. It was overly depressing, yet pleasantly refreshing from the hopeful vibe that penetrated Umbrella ever since their failed American Operation attempts over a year ago. This was just another failed attempt to add to the shelf, but perhaps it was the last. Lebaste liked the idea of it-being the last.

"Sir, what should we do?"

"Make the call."

Ten: North-South Highway, Spade County

The small, silver cell phone rang on the seat beside her, penetrating the silence of the car. With each ring, it seemed to remind her of what she had gotten herself into. An annoying reminder she would be happy to decimate when she walked away from this mission with everything she wanted.

Eleven: Finch's Landing

Michaels and Goldman quickly slipped out the back door as the front door of the house opened.

"Hello, is anybody home? This is the police."

Twelve: North-South Highway

Claudia finally answered the cell phone, as she could no longer stand to let it ring. She had thought long and hard over this moment: should she let Umbrella think she was alive? Dead? That the Russians had overtaken her? There were so many different paths she could have taken, but she finally chose this one over all.

"Hello," she said quietly in her normal voice.

She had planned everything so carefully for this day-everything, that is, except what she would do if someone other than Umbrella called. And called they did.

Thirteen: Altec's Bar, Ace City

"Sir, Mr. Lebaste is on the phone. He wishes to speak to you."


End file.
